Homecoming
by anticute
Summary: IM1. Based off the IM1 deleted scene when Tony Comes Home, to the Stark Mansion. A few of the firsts of his return, in expected Tony fashion.


and in the midst of the im3 fandomfest, anticute somehow ended up editing an im1 fic. 'cause, that makes sense, right?

CONTEXT: this is based off the deleted scene Tony Comes Home (or whatever incredibly creative title they gave it). you don't necessarily have to watch it to get what's going on, but...yeah. context. there is also a reference to another deleted scene, but i'll clarify things at the end of the fic if no one catches it.

ALSO, DIVIDERS SUCK ON FFN.

**HOMECOMING  
**IM1. Based off the IM1 deleted scene when Tony Comes Home, to the Stark Mansion. A few of the firsts of his return, in expected Tony fashion.

* * *

On the first night of his return, he wraps Obie's watch around his right wrist and weighs it, gets used to the pull of gravity as the watch and his arm sway at his side, as he flicks his wrist out to toss away the jacket. He then pockets his hand and edges closer to the windows, his shoes scuffing familiarly against the floor. Heavy, he stands before the windows and looks at the view. He breathes, looks across the waters, across the small buildings in the distance, eyes travelling over the scattered dots of bright city lights. There's the half-reflection on the window of the coffee table behind him, littered with the miscellany of gift bags and their tissue paper neatly tucked inside, impersonally wrapped boxes, and fresh flowers. Tony really doesn't want to bother with any of them, (except he _is_ eyeing the cognac, because who is he to refuse good alcohol and someone's most _sincere_ sentiments, topped off with a generically printed "Glad to have you back!" card), but knows that Pepper already has the thank you cards ready to be signed and sent out.

Heavy, the face of the watch catches against the fabric of his pants pocket and glints when the moonlight touches it. He reaches out at the glass and in fluid motions, taps against its cool surface with the pads of his fingers. The stream of 1,713 messages pass by with each cursory look, the shorthand of the watch shifts down, JARVIS's sardonic tone is overhead, and there is the trickling flow of the glass waterfall behind him, synchronous with the sound of blazing flames from the fireplace.

"I'm detecting the presence of electromagnetic energy in the house."

His mouth twitches and he looks down, remembers when he would only singularly know, feel, his heartbeat, and not his heart _and_ the thrum of energy.

"Boot up the scanner, will you?"

* * *

On the first sleepless night of his return (it is the same night), Tony is down in the shop. The bots are newly wired and are _wired,_ after so many months. Updates to JARVIS are in progress, certain simple medical diagnoses have been determined and logged, new data has been calculated, and everything else that could be done and dealt with in about two weeks has been compressed into just a few hours.

In the midst of these hours, he has caught up on all things related to his company, looked over at the fall, fall, and the rise of stocks, skimmed over the news reports, the carefully worded press releases, and the such. He has also looked through JARVIS's logged activity of the past three months. He is particularly interested by the number of times Rhodey and Pepper (even Obie) have entered the house. In fact, there's more activity in the house than he had anticipated. He is surprisingly - surprises himself - respectful in choosing not to watch any of the recordings of said three months. Or - maybe he just would rather not know. He has enough telling him that he's missing a chunk of this year, a chunk of his life.

He is slouched in his chair, practically lying on it, keyboard on his lap. He drums his fingertips against his chest, against the RT, the other arm dangling, free, on his side, but not free of a dull pain (he has another hour or so before the drugs completely wear off). He has forgone the sling, upstairs (he just never put it back on after his heart-to-heart talk with Obie).

All the files of his weapon designs - current, finished, incomplete, fragmented, forgotten, for fun, for maybe, for never, for never _ever_ - are staring back at him, scattered across his multiple screens as some technological scrapbook. A corner of one of the monitors reflects DUM-E and U whirring about behind him, the most movement he assumes they've had for a while. He's actually concerned (irrationally so; Tony _created_ them, he is well-aware of their capacities) that they will short-circuit, overload, with the amount of simple orders he's given them. He has big brother JARVIS monitoring them, as soon as his updates are completed.

He stills his fingers against the RT; the fingers of his free arm scrape against the floor as he drags his arm up, to extend towards the keyboard.

BACKSPACE.

Presses down.

Doesn't let go.

He doesn't blink.

Then he does, when a strand of hair catches against an eyelash and he needs to find time (well, he's supposed to lay low anyway) to get a better hair-cut. The one he got at the military base, after Rhodey found him, was decent for a quick clean-up, but shoddy all the same. Tony blinks his eyes rapidly, blows upward to shift his hair away from his now irritated eye.

As he does so, the ribbons of data and equations disappear, the lines, shapes, angles of 3D models fade out - piece, by piece.

* * *

The first ungodly hour of his return - same night/morning, 6AM - Tony has removed Obie's watch (the band itches, irritates him, and he's over trying to break it in), removed his belt, unbuttoned his shirt all the way down, the RT gleaming upward. Lights dim, his jacket (the one he had left around, down here, three months ago) pillows his head as he lounges on the floor, on his back. At first, he shifted to the right whenever the floor warmed up from his body heat, until eventually he was left with no space _to_ move; obstructed by the coffee table, he decided against getting up to relocate completely and stayed put.

Pepper makes a half-step out of the elevator, but then blocks the doors from closing as she steps back, settles both feet on the elevator door tracks. She leans against the cool metal of the retracted left panel and concentrates on sending off a text to Rhodey. She's here. No, unsurprisingly, he isn't in bed, or in the living room, but she's going down to the shop to check A) if he's there or B) if one of the cars is missing. If Rhodey comes by, can he pick up some bagels and coffee. Light on the cream, but preferably on the side. The place he gets bagels from slathers on too much cream.

JARVIS had chimed in ten minutes earlier, a short tune designated to indicate that Pepper had parked and was on her way inside the house. Sometimes, Tony is too distracted or asleep to listen to words, announcements, but sounds - sounds, he responds to. Most times. Not always. More likely than anything verbal, in any case. He tunes out voices, but a part of him responds viscerally to sounds, to music, and he won't dwell on that's probably because of Maria's singing and Obie playing the piano.

(There was a time when Rhodey was part of a band, a hobby that also served as one of his many sources of income in college. Tony never told him, would never admit it, but Rhodey was...kind of cool, back then. He was pretty decent, actually. And Tony could only respect anyone's choice to _willingly_ perform for people, to be in front of people.

That said, there are some _ridiculous_ photos.)

Pepper pockets her phone and is about to move out of the elevator opening, but she looks up and just stares at the screens before her.

"Is that..._Tetris_? Are you actually playing Tetris? At six in the morning?"

"Six twenty. Six twenty-one, now. And yeah, against JARVIS. He's pretty good. I'm better."

"We shall see, sir. Round 14 has only just begun. And good morning, Miss Potts."

She takes a shaky breath and just smiles slightly, "Hi, JARVIS." She steps forward and hears behind her the elevator panels shifting towards one another, "I assume you've been keeping him company all morning?"

"Yes, Miss Potts. Since-"

_"JARVIS,"_ Tony warns and then, "sneaky, sneaky, Potts."

She frowns. Despite Tony's efforts to cover up the truth, by intercepting JARVIS's reply to her, (and _Round 14?)_ she now knows Tony _has_ been awake all morning.

It takes her a few seconds to locate him. She expects him to be sitting in a chair, but is unsurprised to find him lying on the ground. He doesn't look up at her, as she stands right beside his head. In the corner of his eye, though, he notes the flicker of color, her shoes, except.

"That's different."

(He tries at light, conversational, but there's this discomfort, settling somewhere in his stomach, that she's not wearing her customary heels.)

She looks away from the screen, just as an S shape lands and clears a chunk from JARVIS's screen, and glances down at Tony. "What is?"

He points with his console at her feet, "That. I noticed. I'm noticing. It's different."

She furrows her brow for a moment, blinks a few times, as she looks down at her own feet. She swallows when she understands what he was looking at.

"Oh," she just says and then takes a small sidestep away from him deliberately, as if that will obstruct his view of her, "Right. Um. They're...," she watches a Z shape square fall and secure itself to the side of a T shape, "flats."

"It's new. Different."

"I've worn flats before."

Which is a lie, actually. Not that Tony will know. She prefers not to wear her flats at work. (Even though she has really cute professional-looking ones.) She's tall, but she enjoys that slight extra height advantage.

He doesn't reply, but she reasons that it's because he's attentive to the game. (It isn't. She's wearing different shoes. He's noticing.)

She presses her lips firmly together, thinks hard on what to say as she watches the game. The screen clears until the very next second, Tony has set down a J and O shape simultaneously, the game speeding up; JARVIS follows shortly with clearing his own blocks. She takes a breath and then sighs.

"I...sort of sprained my ankle. A few weeks ago. Closer to a month."

"...oh."

Pepper stands there and feels awkward, overly aware of the soft fabric of her ankle brace, covered by her pants leg.

She looks at the game, then him. From the looks of it, he has, in fact, not slept. He hasn't even changed out of his clothes. She notices the stains of yesterday's burgers and fries. And she sees how tense he looks, his jaw, sees how he's not exactly paying attention to the game anymore.

She looks back at the screens, watches Tony clear a few lines in rapid succession, but he's only then bombarded with another set of blocks falling down. Tony's just trapped himself. He can salvage it, but he needs to put down the blocks quicker. This should be easy for him, she knows, but again - he's only half-playing.

Pepper nervously adds, the timing entirely off, "I miss my heels, actually."

Tony doesn't respond much to that, except scratch an itch on his arm. Out of all things she had anticipated to deal with today, she hadn't thought that footwear would have started up something.

JARVIS takes the lead. Tony barely catches up with a tactically placed T shape and the fortune of a new set of blocks cascading down.

Somewhere behind Pepper, the desk rattles and things clatter to the floor. She looks over her shoulder and it's Butterfingers, the poor girl having bumped into the corner by accident (or by habit). Pepper looks at Butterfingers with a half-endeared, half-sympathetic expression. She turns her head back towards the monitors and watches, listens to the ping noises accompanying the Tetris game, listens to the bots whining and whirring about.

She listens to the absence of music, the absence of him making snarky remarks, an absence, and yet something heavy and ever present.

A month ago was a while for everyone involved, but that measure of time has particular weight. A month ago, Tony had no idea he would be home by now. He was stuck somewhere far, far away from here and God knows what and where and how he managed to survive and get out. The whole world had kept moving forward and Tony would never be able to catch up to everything. No matter how many cheat sheet cards she had for him, to help him, he just wouldn't.

A month ago, Pepper had a moment where she actually looked at the job offers she was receiving. She had been persuaded by Obie's concern for her, his encouragement that she explore her options, that it couldn't hurt, they were great positions, and that it didn't mean that she was losing hope, it didn't mean anything terribly insensitive, just her being practical, as she always was for him, Tony, SI throughout all these years. She never worried, really; she figured even if Tony didn't come back, she still had a place at SI regardless. Obie had agreed, of course she did, but he saw a bright future for her, with her talents, whether used at SI or elsewhere. And if it was elsewhere, if - sorry, when, of course when, Tony returns, she can come back, easy, no need for any guilt. Her loyalty would always be appreciated.

A moment, broken by Happy, as she sat in the car, who tried to keep spirits up by telling a story about Tony and Rhodey, one set earlier in his career. One she had heard before, but still made her smile. She had dedicated the following day to making the customary polite calls to each employer; she thanked them, but she was not interested, and she appreciated that they would keep their offer just in case she ever reconsidered, yes, thank you, she hopes so too, have a good day.

A month ago, Rhodey met roadblocks every which way because no one would hear him out, look over his paper requests, or answer to his demands that they look for Tony. Superiors, officials, remained unresponsive, even as Rhodey was organizing and was willing to take responsibility for the resources needed in the search, himself. And a month ago, Rhodey and Pepper had a particularly rough day and he allowed himself a drink and quite a few more, and Pepper had to drive him home. Well, rather - Happy did, but Pepper still saw him home, and again, with Happy's help.

(Rhodey the next morning had called her at exactly 9AM, as she expected. He told her he felt terrible that she had to deal with that kind of crap even when Tony wasn't assing around. He bought lunch that day and baked her favorites. He also drove her to all her doctor's appointments; or at least, attempted to, but Pepper would not have any of it after the first two times. Pepper just isn't sure what she was thinking - or rather, not thinking - that she forgot to take off her heels in the first place. It wasn't entirely his fault.

He still looked guilty and guilty and _guilty_ for things beyond just his drunken mistakes.)

Pepper clears her throat and looks around in a search for the semi-wobbly chair she prefers down here. She's not sure how, but Tony doesn't invest in purchasing new chairs. DUM-E whirs by and there it is. She drags the chair a few spaces beside Tony, reaches for the extra console on the torn cushion of a chair near her.

"You know," she says, "I seem to recall I'm close to beating your top score. And Rhodey's."

She hears him shift.

"JARVIS?" She requests kindly, feels the fullness of Tony's stare at her, and just smiles as one of the darkened screens flickers on and her name is highlighted, next to THIRD PLAYER.

Then, a low chuckle.

"You're on, Potts."

(And while they set up and then start an entirely new game, Round 1, Tony tries hard not to remember the last game he played, and his last opponent. But he unconsciously brushes his finger against the still sensitive skin, of a splinter he got from the backgammon board.)

* * *

It's the first evening of his return (technically day two) when Tony eventually falls asleep. Rhodey has his arm braced around Tony's waist, Tony's okay arm slung around Rhodey's shoulders, as Rhodey keeps Tony propped up. He's using the wall of the elevator to help support Tony's weight. He notes that Tony is still as heavy as the first time he picked him up from the desert. Rhodey frowns at this, knows it's only been two, three, weeks since getting him back, weeks spent at the military base, and regaining weight will take some time, but is still concerned.

Rhodey shifts how he's holding Tony to free one of his arms. Pepper quickly takes the watch that Rhodey offers her before he loses his grip on Tony and jostles him awake. The watch is heavy, cool, in her palm and she notes it's the one Obie requested her to acquire, about a week ago. She swipes her thumb across the watch to remove a crumb, lint, whatever, and looks up from reading the time as 6:32, when she hears the chime of the elevator as it comes to a stop.

"You take him to his room," Pepper says, restating their plan, "I'm going to see if he left anything down here and I'll meet you upstairs."

"Take the elevator, Pepper," Rhodey says needlessly, overly concerned, (overcompensating), "don't take the stairs, okay?"

"Don't worry," Pepper smiles reassuringly and waves a hand at him to go, before Tony wakes up (which seems impossible since he is _heavily_ asleep it seems). She turns and walks towards the living room. She sees the jacket, the arm sling, draped on the couch. As she goes to retrieve both, she looks admiringly at the flowers, knows just which vases to put them in; it'll be nice to decorate spots of the halls, kitchen, living room, with some color.

When Pepper enters the bedroom, she asks quietly, "Get his shirt."

Rhodey's already in the process of doing so, easy because it's already conveniently unbuttoned. He leaves Tony in his undershirt and folds the dress shirt vertically, in half. He shifts Tony's feet up onto the bed with one hand and wordlessly hands Pepper the shirt with the other, extending his arm out somewhere behind him, without a glance at her.

Pepper takes it, runs her hand over one of the sleeves' wrinkles absently. She glances at Rhodey, who is looking down at Tony in that serious, but clearly concerned way; she can tell he's also conflicted with being pissed at Tony, because what was that BS at the press conference?

She says quietly, jokingly, "I half-expected to come in here and see you with a pillow in hand."

"Don't think I didn't think of it," he returns, looking at her with a slight smile, "never going to forgive him for that last round. I would have won and he knows it."

The lights above them fade on and off; both of them know it's JARVIS's contribution to the conversation, his siding with Rhodey.

(Dark humor brings some needed levity to this whole situation.)

"Appreciate that, JARVIS." Rhodey replies.

Pepper laughs lightly, as she looks into the pockets of the jacket. Day one of this new suit and it already needs to be sent off for dry cleaning, the stale scent of fast food settled in the fabric. She brushes against something cool and drags out a small bottle of silver shards. She blinks at it, notes the flicker of recognition from Rhodey when she shakes said bottle lightly. He swallows and meets her eyes for a moment, before he just leans over Tony again, needlessly checking if Tony is covered up. She doesn't press the issue, not now. She has her own speculations as she looks to Tony's chest, the soft light through the thin fabric of his undershirt.

She hasn't seen the RT yet. She isn't sure what she will do when she does, isn't sure if Tony will stick to his habits and routine by walking around without a shirt, and if he doesn't, then she'll never see his tech and she isn't sure if that's OK with her, if that means he doesn't trust her. At the same time, she can't begrudge him for keeping it private and all his own.

Still, she won't press, and she just puts a hand on Rhodey's shoulder. He looks back at her and gives her a weak smile, places his hand on top of hers for a moment. She smiles back and then slips her hand away. She turns away from him, clasping both the watch and the small bottle of shards in her hand, glass clicking against glass. She walks over to the nightstand and sets both objects down gingerly, quietly as possible.

Pepper turns back to the bed. Rhodey is now sitting on the edge of the bed, his legs extended out towards her, his fingers drumming over the sides of the mattress, looking pensive at Tony. He then looks at her.

"Drinks? Here, I mean. He has plenty, after all," Rhodey glances down at her ankle for a short moment, then back at her. (The guilt is still there.)

"Oh, yes," she laughs, "I'm sure he'll despair when we deplete his supply tonight."

"I'm half-tempted to take a bunch of his alcohol home, just to give him a heart attack when he wakes up."

"Excellent idea. I'll help."

* * *

It's the first morning of Tony's return (second, technically) when he wakes up and finds post-it notes on his sling.

"Wear it, Tony. We mean it. - P & R."

A rather cryptic: "Thanks. I'll take good care of them. - R."

"You don't get visitation rights. - P."

Then: "Take your meds. - R." An arrow pointing to the nightstand, a tray of water and his bottle.

"WITH WATER. WE MEAN IT, TONY. - P & R."

And why bother with _five_ post-it notes, he thinks, as he pads out of his room. He knows they're in his living room, probably.

When he does find out exactly what happened, with Rhodey and Pepper playing innocent, JARVIS insists that nothing occurred after he fell asleep, having conveniently lost records of any activity after 6PM.

* * *

i would like to mention i am not making light of tony's alcoholism AT ALL and that rhodey and pepper are WELL AWARE OF THE ISSUE.

LET'S ALSO PUT ASIDE THAT RHODEY AND TONY CANONICALLY AND MOST LIKELY SPOKE THE FIRST TIME SINCE THEY MADE IT HOME ON US SOIL , IN THE MOVIE SCENE WHEN TONY WAS TRYING TO BE ALL "rhodeyrhodey i have a new toy come play with me? bring your leather jacket!" but i wanted pepper and rhodey and OT3 so shhhhh.

a list of grievances:  
- I AM SORRY FOR THE LACK OF PEPPER VOICE. TONY KEEPS STEALING THE SPOTLIGHT. shut up tony PEPPER DESERVES HER PLACE.  
- i am ALSO SORRY ABOUT THE REPETITION OF PEPPER'S SHOES i am lame and uncreative  
- man there's so much ish in this thing that bothers me and just isn't tight enough writing that i will prob revisit this fic later.

alsoalso:  
1. the mention of the **backgammon** is what yinsen and tony played. it's also a ref to the deleted scene of Yinsen and Tony - where Yinsen is carving out of wood backgammon (and thus the splinter. it's in my head that the splinter is semi-fresh, i want to say maybe a night or two nights before they actually executed their escape plan?)  
2. the **bottle of shards** is the pieces of metal Yinsen managed to wrangle OUT OF TONY'S CHEST AND HEART and showed tony as a souvenir of sorts. tony's an idiot and just leaves things like that in his jacket apparently. and also, he had it on him when he escaped...? (so, there was intent on why the watch and the bottle because i'm a dork about things like that.)

BASICALLY mentions of Yinsen where i could because i love me some Yinsen?

also there was some more OT3 stuff that i had to cut out because it just really doesn't flow well at all and i'll see if i can salvage it.


End file.
